"_For Every Jewel a Drop of Blood!_"
All night Ibn Jad and his party marched northward. Though they were
hampered by the refusal of Guinalda to walk, yet they made rapid
progress for they were spurred on by their great desire to escape from
the valley with their booty before they should be discovered and set
upon by the great host of fighting men they were now convinced were
quartered in the castle and city they had been fortunate enough to find
almost deserted.
Avarice gave them strength and endurance far beyond that which they
normally displayed, with the result that dawn found them at the foot of
the ragged mountains that Ibn Jad had determined to scale rather than
attempt an assault upon the castle which guarded the easy way from the
valley.
It was a jaded party that won eventually to the pass just above the
outer barbican that guarded the road to the City of the Sepulcher, nor
were they discovered by the warders there until the last man of them
was safely on the trail leading to the low saddle at the summit of the
mountains, beyond which lay the menzil of the Beduins.
The defenders of the barbican made a sortie against them and approached
their rear so closely that the sir knight who commanded saw Guinalda
and recognized her, but a volley from the matchlocks of the desert
people sent the crudely armed soldiers of Bohun back in retreat, though
the brave knight couched his lance and charged again until his horse
was brought down by a bullet and he lay pinned beneath it.
It was afternoon before Ibn Jad with his fagged company staggered into
the menzil. Though they dropped in their tracks from sheer exhaustion,
he allowed them but an hour of sleep before he gave the signal for
the rahla, for the sheik of the fendy el-Guad was filled with an ever
increasing fear that the treasure and the woman would be taken away
from him before he could reach the sandy wastes of his own barren beled.
The heavy weight of the treasure had been divided into several bundles
and these were distributed among his least mistrusted followers, while
the custody of the girl captive was placed in the hands of Fahd, whose
evil eyes filled the princess with fear and loathing.
Stimbol, who had secretly scoffed at the stories of treasure and the
mad tales of a beautiful woman that the 'Aarab expected to find in
some fabulous, hidden city, was dumfounded when he viewed the spoils
of the Beduin raid, and at first was inclined to attribute them to the
hallucinations of his fever-racked brain.
Weak, Stimbol staggered feebly along the trail, keeping as close to
Fahd as he could, for he knew that of all the company this unscrupulous
scoundrel would be most likely to assist him, for to Fahd a live
Stimbol meant great wealth; nor was Fahd unmindful of the fact. And
now there was another purpose in the evil mind of the Beduin who had
conceived for the white girl an infatuation that was driving him to the
verge of madness.
With the wealth that Stimbol had promised him Fahd realized that he
could afford to possess this lovely houri whom otherwise a poor Beduwy
must sell for the great price that she would bring, and so there
revolved in the mind of Fahd many schemes whereby he might hope to gain
sole possession of both Guinalda and Stimbol; but always there loomed
in the path of every plan that he considered the dour figure of his
greedy sheykh.
At the foot of the Mountains of the Sepulcher Ibn Jad turned toward
the east, thus to avoid passing again through the country of Batando.
Beyond the eastern end of the range he would turn south again and later
strike west just above the northern limits of the territory that was
nominally Tarzan's, for though he knew that the Lord of the Jungle was
dead he yet feared the vengeance of his people.
It was late before Ibn Jad made camp. The preparations for the evening
meal were hurried. The light from the cooking fire and the paper
lanterns in the beyt of the sheik was dim and flickering, yet not so
dim but that Ateja saw Fahd drop something into the bowl of food that
she had prepared for Ibn Jad and which stood upon the ground between
him and his would-be assassin.
As the sheik reached for the receptacle Ateja stepped from the women's
quarters and struck it from his hand, but before she could explain
her act or charge Fahd with his villainy the culprit, realizing that
his perfidy had been discovered, leaped to his feet and seizing his
matchlock sprang into the women's quarters where Guinalda had been left
under the watchful care of Hirfa and Ateja.
Seizing the girl by the wrist and dragging her after him Fahd broke
through the curtains at the rear of the beyt and ran in the direction
of his own tent. By this time the mukaad of Ibn Jad was in an uproar.
The sheik was demanding an explanation from Ateja and still unaware
that Fahd had escaped through the rear of the beyt no one had followed
him into the women's quarters.
"He placed _simm_ in thy food!" cried Ateja. "I saw him and the proof
of it be that he fled when he knew that I had seen."
"Billah," exclaimed Ibn Jad. "The son of a jackal would poison me?
Seize him and fetch him to me!"
"He hath fled through the beyt!" cried Hirfa, "and taken the Nasrawia
with him."
The Beduins sprang to their feet and took after Fahd, but at his own
beyt he stopped them with a bullet and they retreated. In his tent he
seized Stimbol who was lying upon a filthy sleeping mat and dragged him
to his feet.
"Hasten!" he hissed in the American's ear. "Ibn Jad has ordered that
thou be slain! Quick! follow me and I will save thee."
Again Fahd had recourse to the rear curtains of a beyt and as his
fellows approached the front in anger but with caution, Fahd, dragging
Guinalda and followed by Stimbol, sneaked through the darkness of the
menzil and turned toward the west.
* * * * *
It was dusk when James Blake, following the plain trail of Ibn Jad,
finally clambered over the last escarpment and stood upon the trail
that led through the pass toward the outer world beyond the Valley of
the Sepulcher.
A hundred yards to his right loomed the gray towers of the barbican, to
his left was the trail that led in the direction of his heart's desire,
and all about him, concealed in the bushes, were the men-at-arms of
King Bohun of the Sepulcher; but this he did not guess, for how could
he know that for hours the eyes of the warders had been watching his
slow ascent toward the pass trail?
Spent by the long climb following hours of gruelling exertion without
food or rest, unarmed, Blake was helpless to resist or to attempt
escape when a dozen armed men stepped from the surrounding bushes and
encircled him in a band of steel. And so Sir James of Nimmr was seized
and hauled before King Bohun, and when he was questioned and Bohun
found that he was the same black knight that had thwarted his plan to
abduct the Princess Guinalda he could scarce contain himself.
Assuring Blake only of the fact that he would be put to death as soon
as Bohun could determine upon a fate commensurate with the heinousness
of the crime, the king ordered him to be placed in chains, and the
American was led away by guards to a black hole beneath the castle,
where by the light of flares a smith forged a heavy iron band about one
ankle and he was chained to a damp stone wall.
In the light of the flare Blake saw two emaciated, naked creatures
similarly chained, and in a far corner glimpsed a skeleton among the
bones of which rusted a length of chain and a great anklet. Then
silently the guards and the smith departed, taking the flares with
them, and James Blake was left in darkness and despair.
Upon the plain, below the City of Nimmr, Tarzan had overtaken the party
of Beduins led by Abd el-Aziz, and after assuring himself that the girl
was not with them he had turned without revealing himself to them and
hurried northward to take up the trail of the other party.
Requiring food and rest he lay up in the Wood of the Leopards during
the heat of the day after stalking Horta the boar and making a quick
kill. His belly filled, the ape-man found a high flung tree crotch
where there was little likelihood of the heavy leopards of Nimmr
disturbing his slumbers, and here he slept until the sun was sinking
behind the western mountains. Early the following morning he reached
the deserted menzil where Ibn Jad's people had camped during his
incursion of the Valley of the Sepulcher.
Some time since, he had lost the spoor of Blake, but that of the girl
frequently recurred, and as her rescue now took precedence over other
considerations he followed doggedly along the trail of Ibn Jad. For a
time he was mystified by the fact that Guinalda's spoor, well marked
by the imprints of the tiny sandals of medieval design, did not appear
among the footprints of those who left the Beduin menzil.
He lost some time searching about in an effort to discover a clew to
the riddle and presently he hit upon the truth, which lay in the fact
that Guinalda's light sandals having been badly worn by her journey
and far too tight for comfortable walking she had been given a pair
belonging to Ateja, and thus it became difficult to differentiate
between the spoor of the two girls, who were of equal weight and of
a similarity of carriage that rendered their footprints practically
identical.
Tarzan therefore contented himself with following the spoor of the
party, and so it was that he passed their first night's camp, where
Fahd had stolen Guinalda from the sheik, without discovering that three
of its members had there turned to the west, while the main body of the
'Aarab marched toward the east.
And as Tarzan followed the spoor of Ibn Jad a hundred stalwart Waziri
moved northward from the water hole of the smooth, round rocks upon the
old trail of the Beduins. With them was Zeyd, who had begged so hard to
accompany them when they passed the village where he had been waiting
that at last the sub-chief had consented.
When Tarzan overtook the 'Aarab they had already turned south around
the eastern end of the Mountains of the Sepulcher. He saw the bags they
carried and the evident concern with which Ibn Jad watched and guarded
them, and he shrewdly guessed that the wily old thief had indeed found
the treasure he had sought; but he saw no evidence of the presence of
the Princess, and Stimbol, too, was missing.
Tarzan was furious. He was furious at the thieving Beduins for daring
to invade his country and he was furious at himself because he felt
that in some way he had been tricked.
Tarzan had his own methods of inflicting punishment upon his enemies
and he had, as well, his own grim and grisly sense of humor. When men
were doing wrong it pleased him to take advantage of whatever might
cause them the greatest suffering and in this he was utterly ruthless
with his enemies.
He was confident that the 'Aarab thought him dead and it did not
suit his whim to reveal their error to them at this time, but it did
accord with his fancy to let them commence to feel the weight of his
displeasure and taste the first fruits of their villainy.
Moving silently through the trees Tarzan paralleled the course of the
'Aarab. They were often plainly visible to him; but none saw Tarzan,
nor dreamed that savage eyes were watching their every move.
Five men carried the treasure, though its weight was not so great but
that one powerful man might have borne it for a short distance. Tarzan
watched these men most often, these and the Sheik Ibn Jad.
The trail was wide and the sheik walked beside one of those who bore
the treasure. It was very quiet in the jungle. Even the 'Aarab,
garrulous among themselves, were quiet, for they were very tired and
the day was hot and they were unused to the burdens they were forced to
carry since Batando had robbed them of their slaves.
Of a sudden, without warning and with only the swish of its flight
through the air to announce it, an arrow passed through the neck of
the Beduin who walked beside Ibn Jad.
With a scream the man lunged forward upon his face and the 'Aarab,
warned by their sheik, cocked their muskets and prepared to receive an
attack, but look where they would they saw no sign of an enemy. They
waited, listening, but there was no sound other than the droning of
insects and the occasional raucous cry of a bird; but when they moved
on again, leaving their fellow dead upon the trail, a hollow voice
called to them from a distance.
"_For every jewel a drop of blood!_" it wailed dismally, for its author
knew well the intensely superstitious nature of the desert dwellers and
how best to affright them.
It was a shaken column that continued on its way, nor was there any
mention of making camp until almost sunset, so anxious were they all to
leave behind this gloomy wood and the horrid afrit that inhabited it;
but the forest persisted and at length it became necessary to make camp.
Here the camp fires and food relieved the tension upon their
overwrought nerves, and their spirits had revived to such an extent
that there were again singing and laughter in the menzil of Ibn Jad.
The old sheik himself sat in his mukaad surrounded by the five bags of
treasure, one of which he had opened and beneath the light of a lantern
was fondling the contents. About him were his cronies, sipping their
coffee.
Suddenly something fell heavily upon the ground before the beyt and
rolled into the mukaad among them. It was the severed head of a man!
Glaring up at them were the dead eyes of their fellow, whose corpse
they had left lying in the trail earlier in the day.
Horror struck, spellbound, they sat staring at the gruesome thing when,
from out of the dark forest, came the hollow voice again: "_For every
jewel a drop of blood!_"
Ibn Jad shook as a man with ague. The men of the camp gathered close
together in front of the beyt of the sheik. Each grasped a musket in
one hand and searched for his hijab with the other, for each carried
several of these amulets, and that in demand this night was the one
written against the jan, for certainly none but a jin could have done
this thing.
Hirfa stood half within the mukaad staring at the dead face of her
fellow while Ateja crouched upon a sleeping mat in the quarters of the
women. She did not see the back curtain rise, nor the figure that crept
within. It was dark in the quarters of the hareem since little light
filtered in from the lanterns in the mukaad.
Ateja felt a hand clapped across her mouth at the same instant that
another grasped her by the shoulder. A voice whispered in her ear.
"Make no sound! I shall not hurt thee. I am a friend to Zeyd. Tell me
the truth and no harm will befall you or him. Where is the woman Ibn
Jad brought from the valley?"
He who held her placed his ear close to her lips and removed his hand
from them. Ateja trembled like a leaf. She had never seen a jin. She
could not see the creature that leaned close to her, but she knew that
it was one of those fearsome creatures of the night.
"Answer!" whispered the voice in her ear. "If thou wouldst save Zeyd,
speak and speak the truth!"
"Fahd took the woman from our menzil last night," she gasped. "I do not
know where they went."
As it came, in silence the presence left the side of the terrified
girl. When Hirfa sought her a moment later she found her in a swoon.